


you might call it regret

by therentyoupay



Series: Marching On [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Hope, Regret, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therentyoupay/pseuds/therentyoupay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasuke immediately regrets even thinking the words, because this is not the first time—nor the second, nor the tenth—that he has in some way slipped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you might call it regret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unicorn_page](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=unicorn_page).



> Written as a gift!fic for unicorn_paige on LiveJournal, with the prompt: "candy." Originally posted to FFNET on February 3, 2012.

.

.

.

"Of course it is."

Sasuke immediately regrets even thinking the words, because this is not the first time—nor the second, nor the tenth—that he has in some way slipped.

_(And it wouldn't be the last.)_

His tongue is sharp with the urge to prove Naruto wrong, but he's wary of the implications behind the argument, so he clenches his jaw and schools his features, combating dead last's inherent stubbornness with his own aloofness in all of the old ways that fill his gut with a disorienting sense of bitter resentment and warm familiarity. And then dead last has a knowing look in his eye that all at once begs Sasuke to damage something _and_ still manages to catapult him nearly a decade behind, into a past filled with stupid laughter and desperate wonder. The muscles beneath Sasuke's skin tighten in expectation, but yet another change has made itself apparent, because the idiot seems to have learned something mildly akin to the art of judiciousness during the years of their team's separation, and Naruto merely looks away with only a glint of a smile.

_(But this isn't the change that plagues him most.)_

A memory of friendship had halted him, a promise of second chances had lured him, and since then the misjudgments and missteps—some minor in scope, all egregious in their ramifications—have only continued to pile on, all of which have brought him to this moment: discernible feeling has once again threaded itself into his voice, and this, he knows, can only be the beginning of the end. _(An end for the life of retribution he had envisioned for himself, based on his belief in strength found in solitude?)_

_(Or is it finally the end of an everlasting facade?)_

"Well," Naruto continues slowly, with that irritating new found cautiousness. "Dango _used_ to be her favorite... when she was younger. But Sakura's grown more fond of spicy stuff since then."

There is another moment of disquiet as this seemingly insignificant— _trivial, useless, irrelevant_ —information registers with him, and suddenly Naruto plasters on a smile bright enough to blind and almost wide enough to fool.

"But don't worry! Spicy, sweet... she'll love whatever we get her—no matter how her tastes change, she's still the sweetest thing of all!"

Naruto's boisterous laugh at his own horrid joke is jarring enough as it is, but in the tension they'd created amidst the surrounding shelves of the market, even as the heaviness of the air evaporates into a duller weight, the sound is all the more grating. Yet Sasuke, left standing alone and staring into the empty air of an inconspicuous grocery treats aisle, is not as perturbed by the sound as he should be; instead, he is much more focused on the dango shop across the street, and the inexplicable feeling of wrongness settling at his core. He would not call it emptiness, would never label it fear, and so the root cause of the desperation Sasuke feels while making his small purchase of sweets— _memories_ —is not explored.

_(You might call it regret.)_

Later, when Sakura opens Naruto's gift, there is such genuine pleasure in her eyes at the sight of her crudely written birthday card and bag of spicy treats that Sasuke's grip nearly crushes his own package, which is hidden beneath the fabric of his jacket. Sasuke considers stealthily discarding the dreadful thing at the first opportunity, but Naruto robs him of the chance before he even finishes the thought.

"Hey, bastard! Where's yours?"

When Sakura realizes that Sasuke has bothered to bring her anything at all, the light of delighted surprise that warms her face is enough to endow Sasuke the courage to slip the finely wrapped package from his sleeve. The following silence is painful in its awkwardness, and it's all the willpower Sasuke has to not snatch it back out from her line of sight, and then:

"You remembered," she whispers, and she reaches for the small package of sweets between them. There are no further words of clarification on his part and no additional assurances from Sakura of her satisfaction, but the appreciation shines in her eyes and her happiness over the act of recognition flows into the curve of her lips as she offers him a sincere bow of thanks... as well as a familiar smile he is startled to realize that he's missed.

Sasuke does not know what to say, does not have the words to express this feeling of relief, but as he has already vowed twice today to desist from voicing any and all sentiments that would imply a sense of _care_ , he is even less inclined to try.

Instead, at least for now, he is content to sit with the fact that even amidst all of the changes and losses and irreversible regrets, there are still some things— _some certain things about some certain precious people_ —that have not changed.

.

.

.

.

.

_(This, you might call hope.)_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._


End file.
